Please leave reviews. I'd like to know if people are reading, and if it's worth reading. Suggestions are always welcome. I'm aware my writing style in the early chapters has been somewhat sparse, because there's an awful lot of 'Pre-Xmen' history to get through for Gambit.
Calm down, LeBeau. I been in worse situations den dis. Femme claim ta love me. Just jealous and hurt from rejection. Just gotta sooth de rage, distract her... den high tail it de hell out of here and not look back. Damn femme crazy as a loon.
Drawing a breath, Remy focused those smouldering eyes upon her. Unaware of the rhythmic pulses of glowing reddish energy his eyes practically shimmered with. Candra didn't even notice it herself, she was caught up in pleasant ideas of torturing him, or how to make him love her, apparently.
"Chere. Chere! Look at me, Candra. Dis ain' bout Bella. I love ya Candra." He willed his voice to be sincere, for her to believe him if she'd ever believed anything he said. He was fairly sure it was the words she needed to, wanted to, hear.
The knives stopped spinning, at the very least, and some of the rage faded into a smirk. The forces holding him to the wall began to lessen, setting him down gently back to his own two feet.
"Then why won't you stay with me, Remy?" That anger was still there, he could feel it now. He was trying to feel what she felt, he needed to know, needed that upper hand with her.
"It ain't de stayin chere. It de marriage part. Sore subject, dat one. Ya want me t'be ya partner? Ya lover? Ya boyfriend? D'accord. I be dose t'ings, chere. But marriage, we let dat one wait for a while yet?" He offered a hopeful smile, as he strode across the room to stroke her cheek with his finger tips. Exhaling as he leaned forward to brush lips with hers.
"You... very well. I can be patient, when it's worth it. You, Remy, are very worth it." Her voice was nearly a purr, as if moments ago she hadn't been somehow holding him to a wall with something he couldn't even see, about to throw knives into his body.
Oh yeah. Dis bitch psycho.
"Glad we agree on dat.. now. Since ya don't want me going for dat book tonight.." He let his eyes range across that tight sinuous body armor, let passion burn in his eyes. He could feel her starting to melt, and then she was pressed against him. Almost as if his gaze alone was searing her into pleasure.
"I have much better uses to put you to then some dusty old book I don't even care about.." She whispered into his ear, hands strongly holding his own, as their clothes began to be stripped away by those invisible forces...
Hours later, Remy stared at her sleeping form on the bed. He'd been amazed he'd even been able to perform, but then, that's what massive amounts of foreplay were for. Time for him to calm down, and exposure to a woman with a body like Candra's... sooner or later the physical took over, despite the fear. She was asleep, he knew. Sound asleep.
After a session like they'd just shared, he knew she was prone to sleeping soundly. He used to watch television while she slept sometimes, and it never woke her up. He had about 7 hours, if he gauged things right. As he pushed the sheets up over her nude form, and turned to step away, Remy sighed. Shaking his head, cursing himself for a damned fool, he leaned down and left a trail of kisses on her sleeping lips.
"Ah chere, it good to know dat someone could love me much as you seem ta." Fool. He turned, and finished gathering his things. The whole while realizing he had come to care for her. Not love, not really, but how could you not to some extent love someone who loved you? It consumed her, as if he'd addicted her. And there were memories, happy memories.
But he didn't dare be there when she woke up. He couldn't be. Not seeing what her temper could do, knowing that she was a lunatic. But he did on some level love her. Not the deep consuming bond he felt with Belladonna, but a love that was no less real because it wasn't in the same league. Fool thing was, Remy knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt if anyone ever threatened her... he'd feel compelled to protect her.
Stupid. Real stupid, me. De femme got powers a some kind, big ones. Like she ever gonna need my protection. Still..
The night was welcoming, especially once he hot-wired her Benz, tossed his kit into the trunk, and floored it for the airport. At least 6 more hours.. he had to find a flight out of France before then. Anything less then an international flight he'd have her tracking him down within hours.
And there was no doubt at all that she -would- be tracking him.
That was how three hours later, he'd found himself exiting a jets bathroom on his flight from Amsterdamn to the States. His ticket would take him to Chicago. Where he'd get a flight to Seattle. No one would expect him to go there. Exiting the bathroom minutes after him was the stewardess who'd just provided some excellent stress relief.
Merde. I go from cheating on Bella wit' a psycho to sleeping wit' stewardesses now? Not like it matters anymore. Ya break de vows once, and dey broken. So much for Till death do us part. Den again, it never said who's death. Guess it was Julien's, an my fool head just didn't realize it.
Remy stewed in silence, looking out the window. It just made him feel worse, because he still loved Belladonna. The golden band hanging on a chain about his neck seemed to burn against his skin.
Two weeks later.
Oy. Dis ain't so good. Slipped past de alarms wit'out fail. Lifted de bracelet. An just as I about to leave what happens?
Not that anything had actually happened yet, but he was stalking across the galleries floor. Already there was the flash light of the on duty guard sweeping towards the room he was stalking across towards his exit point. Not good. The guard had broken his regular patrol cycle. Why?
Fat ass probably jus' wants a soda and de vending machines are dis way. Just my luck. Gonna get pinned cuz a guy got a caffeine addiction.
For all his thoughts of being caught, he was across the room and already climbing up it nimbly to the window that would provide his exit. Lights swept the room, regular not alert.
Oh yeah. Dis why I de Prince of t'ieves. Even a lil caffeine ca---
"STOP! PUT UP YOUR HANDS!"
Aw shit.
The light hit him even as the words did. Even with his shades, the light hurt his eyes bad in this darkness he'd become accustomed to. What he had not been expecting though, was the ring of gunfire even as he leapt out of the window. Worse, was the searing pain. He'd never been shot before.
Oh lord, don't let dis be de end. Remy LeBeau shot by a rent a cop? I never live down de shame if dat's how my note gets punched out. Shit dat hurts.
Worse, was even as he toppled out the window, he couldn't get ahold of the his hand holds to climb down, he pitched over the 15 foot fall to the ground, landing with an impact against a trash can. Oddly however, the impact didn't really seem to hurt at all. If anything, as he slammed against it, he felt empowered. Felt surges of energy whirling through him.
Why was the alley glowing pink? ... that was coming from his eyes, underneath the glasses, he realized. Aw shit. Did Candra do something? Work some voodoo on him from afar? Dat be just my luck.
Then he realized, the bullet wound really didn't hurt as much as he thought it should. It hurt less then when he'd been cut in his fencing lessons back when he'd been learning how to fight. Wait, why de glow in de alley getting even brighter.. What dat sizzling sound?
Looking down as he pushed off the garbage can, he realized it was the trash can that was now glowing fuscia, not him. The glow had subsided from him. That sizzling sounded bad though, and his shoulder hurt like hell. Breaking into a dead run, he needed to get out of here before police arrived.
He made it a block, but even stumbling and running that far, he was still close enough to hear the explosion. One that he somehow knew was the trash can that'd been glowing.
Oh shit. What's happenin to me?
"Well.. it been two days now. Guess it can't be dat bad." Remy mumbled to himself, as he climbed off the bed in the cheap motel room he'd been renting. The dingy kind of motel, where they didn't ask for questions or photo id. They didn't want to know, and they didn't ask questions.
Luckily he'd found one of the other occupants of the place had been a soldier of fortune, or a mercenary, who knew? The important part was he'd been good enough at field medic training to doctor his wound up. More importantly, two hundred bucks made sure the man would keep quiet about such doctoring.
Nothing had been in the news...beyond a gas explosion. No one even knew anything had been stolen. Which the sinking feeling in Remy's gut said meant the guard had been killed in the explosion. Lucky for him, but the fact yet another death was on his mind weighted him down. It hurt.
He couldn't sit still though. He felt too energetic. And worse, every pace or step made him feel more ready to bounce off walls. Pulling his duster back on, he slipped out of the room, to prowl. How long he walked, his mind wandering, he wasn't sure. He knew it was a while, he also knew he couldn't even recall the security guards face. It was a horrible thing to have killed someone and not even recall their face. It made him feel like a monster.
In the journey of prowling, he found himself outside of a theater. Glancing up at the movies playing, he just shrugged. Popcorn. That was good for the mind, right? Maybe. He just handed over a twenty, and said for the ticket girl to give him a ticket to whatever she recommended, and keep the change. She had a nice smile, and he couldn't help but notice the overly abundant chest tightly constrained by the red sweater.
A thought still lurking in his mind, as he got his pop corn, a coke and wandered around until he found the theater. Previews hadn't started yet, but it was a mostly packed house. Must be a good flick. Mebbe it cheer me up.
Even as he settled into the seat though, his cell phone rang.
"Remy?" It was Henri.
"Oiu Henri, what going on? Ya sound awful. Ya hear bout my lil problem den?" Dunno how ya would. Less ya got people spying on me.
"You got problems too? What's going on Remy? What happened? Where are you?"
Must be pretty bad if he dis worried. He didn't hear about my little incident yet den. Dat's good. Still don't understand dat anyway.
"Jus' almost bungled a job. Got shot, but healing up good. Why?"
"Remy..." Long drawn out silence.
"Spit it out Henri."
"Remy.. Belladonna be dead. Dey found her two hours ago, crucified in de Assassins private Church.. Remy. It was wit' her own knives it was done."
"WHAT!? Bella can't be dead!?"
He realized a few things then. First, he was shouting. Second, the cell had been crushed in his hand. Third, he was kicking and pounding on the theater sets like a mad man in a rage. Worse though, was that sense of energy that'd been building all day. So slight while he'd been walking around, seemed to gain exponentially with each impact of his legs or feet against a seat. And people were running and screaming for the exits.
That was when he realized seats, the floor, even everything he was looking at, was beginning to glow fuscia. Worst of all, was when he realized that even applied to some of the people his gaze fell across. As their skin started to burn, their hair, and then they started to glow.
"Oh Merde. God forgive me for dis.."
He wasn't sure if forgiveness came or not. All he was sure, positively sure that came, was an explosion, multiple explosions as a matter of fact, and a loss of consciousness as black enveloped him.
When the blackness began to recede, he was aware of things. Rain. It was raining. Destruction surrounded him. Sirens were in the distance. The carnage.. he vomited on the littered ground next to him.
It was after he vomited, he finally heard the words. Heard the words from the man standing near his feat. "Mr. LeBeau. You look worse for the wear. To be expected, when you kinetically charge an entire building around you though." His tone was.. disapproving.
Did he know the pale skinned man who spoke with an English accent? He didn't think so. But then, who was Mr LeBeau? Was that him? It seemed a familiar name. Perhaps it was his.
"Are you able to hear me? The explosions did not damage your hearing?"
"Non. I hear you just fine. Do I know you?"
Laughter. It didn't have any warmth at all in it, and sent a chill down his spine.
"Hardly, Mr LeBeau. But I know you. This destruction is a result of your uncontrolled power. The police and emergency service teams will be arriving shortly. I rather imagine you do not want to be here when they arrive. It could prove hazardous to your already precarious health."
It would almost sound friendly advice. If not for the fact it was being stated like calm scientific fact, and in no way friendly at all.
"Yeah, no shit. Not sure I can walk though. Sides, look at dis! Mebbe dey should get me.. all dose people.."
"It's not your fault. Come with me, and I can teach you to control your powers. I will allow you to make amends for the destruction you have caused today."
Could there be amends, after this? I pretty sure I saw kids in dat audience. Merde.. kids.. Bella.. oh Bella. I failed de vows, an I failed ta protect ya. Julien was right about me. But I don't wanna die Bella. Not yet. I gotta make amends before I join ya.
Guilds training full at work,there. Thieves and Assassins, after every job they performed cleansing prayers to keep them sanctified. To keep the Pearly Gates open to them when their time came, despite the sins they worked while alive. That was how it was supposed to work anyway. Bella belonged in heaven. Even if one Remy LeBeau belonged in hell now, for sure..
"What ya name? Ain't goin no where wit' a guy I don't even know de name of."
"You could hardly stop me from taking you with me, even if you wanted to LeBeau. However, I have no intention of doing so. I am Dr. Nathaniel Essex. Now, will you come with me?"
"Oui." It was all Remy could force himself to croak out, because the dizziness hit him back into the darkness as soon as he'd said those words. Darkness.. and dreams of Candra coming after him. Dreams of the mob of people who'd been in the theater hunting him down. Worse, dreams of Bella, Jean-Luc, and Henri coming after him because of what he'd done.
Because of the evil he'd become. Thieves didn't murder. That was the realm of the assassins. Yet Remy LeBeau, the Prince of Thieves, had a kill count higher then even most elder assassins now.
God forgive him. God forgive me. Please, let me make amends. Please let dis man, dis Doctor, be a man of de fold. I need dat resolution. Please.
